


Home Comforts

by FHC_Lynn



Series: Broken Windows [21]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 15:07:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10879326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FHC_Lynn/pseuds/FHC_Lynn
Summary: Whatever traveler's tales he had been plied with, Optimus much preferred being home.





	Home Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tyrsdayschild](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyrsdayschild/gifts).



> May Day prompt on Tumblr for romantic Prime/Bee.

“I already know you’re there. If _Jazz_ can’t do it, you should know you can’t sneak up on me.” Optimus didn’t look up from his desk immediately. They had just recently gotten it powered up again, after ages of dormancy. Of course, they hadn’t been powering desks since long before their final flight from Cybertron. Optimus couldn’t quite remember his single crash course on them before Iacon went dark, either. But as soothing as the blue text was, as lovely as the image projected beside it was, the quiet distracted him. Optimus looked away to find Bumblebee leaning on the edge of the desk.

“I don’t think I ever saw a space view of Cybertron before.” Bumblebee murmured, staring at the slowly spinning display. “I mean, except when we left…”

“I didn’t either. I’m pleasantly surprised this bit of data survived. It was lovely, wasn’t it? Our world, in its brighter days.” Optimus glanced back at the holo and vented. He remembered listening to travelers’ tales in the dive bars of Iacon, once upon a time. Back then no one had said how beautiful their own world was. Every word had been about the mysteries and exoticism of far-flung worlds.

Since then, Optimus had learned the allure of home. Bumblebee grinned up at him, biolights dimly pulsing with the stirring of something less poignant than nostalgia. Optimus chuckled as Bumblebee stretched up on his pedes to place one hand across the nearer pane of Optimus’ windshield.

“Oh, is that how it is?”

“Uh huh. Lemme up, Optimus.”

He reached for Bumblebee and helped the mini frame into the chair with him. Bumblebee knelt, straddling Optimus’ lap, and leaned against his chest. He made himself comfortable by exploring the familiar territory of Optimus’ frame, but when Optimus tried to reciprocate, Bumblebee smacked his hands.

Snorting, Optimus settled. Bumblebee often struggled with feeling worthy and living up to an imagined standard that Optimus supposedly held. But luckily for Optimus, moments like this happened too, when he simply reached for what he wanted, as certain of himself as he was of Optimus. On those glorious occasions, it felt so good to give up control for just that little time.

“You left the door open,” Optimus said.

“Worried?”

“Not especially.”

“Good. Plannin’ a quiet night, anyway.”

“Oh? Were you now?”

Smirking, Bumblebee explored Optimus’ body to seek out every sensitive place he had mapped out over their time together. Soft and slow, his touches soothed Optimus more than provoked. He found himself relaxing under Bumblebee’s hands, slumping forward, with his systems humming on a low, simmering charge. A sharp tap over his spike housing made him yelp. Bumblebee laughed. “You’re getting loud,” he admonished. “And I said I want a quiet night. Keep your pride tucked.”

Optimus choked. “I am not a horse! And you’re not -- I should never have watched that movie with you!”

“Yeah, well. From this angle, you got plenty to be proud of, and I ain’t quiet either. Not that way. So no pony rides, as Carly would say. Open your data hatch. I’ve been running hot all day.”

“You’re still letting them…? You didn’t tell them?” Obeying the command, Optimus still groaned. He didn’t quite understand his lover’s voyeuristic streak, but he did know it would get Bumblebee into trouble one day. Probably sooner than later, now that he had adopted a whole group of locals. “Bumblebee, you really should tell them…”

“I told you they put out a low level current, right? The humans, I mean. And y’know, Skyfire said that, back in the day, he did ferrying as supplemental income, right? And sometimes the drunks would frag in his cabin. It really does tingle all over, that close…” Bumblebee chuckled as Optimus’ systems turned over eagerly.

And then there were times when Optimus wondered which of them were the more perverse.

Looking down, Optimus watched Bumblebee’s data cable slip free of its hatch. Bumblebee didn’t stop him, this time, when he reached for it. The difference in this infiltration or medically specific version from the standard Optimus had still caught him off guard. Wrapped in a tightly woven mesh skin, thick tension cords beneath that skin flexed up and down its length to create a motor function his own didn’t have. Bumblebee’s cable _wiggled_ under his fingers before pushing past them to find the data hatch Optimus had opened between his window panes.

Excited neural nets rushed through the familiar system checks. It was easy to align his data flow with Bumblebee’s. It was a joy to accept the exchange of daily data and more specialized packets,

It was ecstasy to accept the power exchange.

He followed Bumblebee’s lead and kept the buildup of charge slow and steady. Like Bumblebee’s touches at the beginning of this encounter, the calm approach relaxed him. Locking his gaze on the holographic world spinning over his desk, he wrapped his arms around the precious mech snuggling into him. Charge built in step with quiet joy, and all the wondrous dockside tales of his youth would never compare to the place he had found with his people. There was a peace here that he wished he could share outward.

Overload came, and pleasure swept across both their systems, reflecting back and again in endless, intense ripples. Satisfaction rode the complex results of that small amplification, whether his or Bumblebee’s, Optimus could not say. It didn’t matter. In the aftermath, lassitude and warmth filled both ends of the whole they created across the connection.

Optimus had long since learned the comforts of home.


End file.
